


Beauty In All

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Reader Insert, spn one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 19:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7066564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: “Please, point a gun at me if it helps you relax.”</p>
<p>Summary: You’ve turned into something you don’t want to be. It has no cure but at least you have the Winchesters to help you realize that there is beauty in all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty In All

       A few weeks back, you were touched by something unknown during a hunt, one that you didn’t know of. Visions came into your head each night to haunt your dreams, visions of how people would die. May it be of old-age, of suicide, or even of murder, you would see them, every single night. Sometimes you even woke up screaming, but that night was different.

       As you closed your eyes, you saw what was to come, a giant earthquake with a 10.0 magnitude causing the entire town to sink to the bottom of the ocean and killing hundreds of people.

       You couldn’t take this burden anymore. You decided to end your life. You tried a silver blade, an iron sword, a salt bullet to the head, wooden stake dipped in blood, but still nothing happened. Each time you tried, you just healed again, like it never even happened.

       You were just about done, when suddenly, you heard the door to your house fly open and you began hearing the light thumping of footsteps.

       “Dean, I don’t think this is the place. If there’s a monster causing all the shaking in the ground, wouldn’t it be living in a cave or something, and not a domesticated house like this?” the voice began softly.

       You recognized that voice instantly. It was Sam Winchester’s, the boy who dropped out of law school for his brother. You were in the same class. You never knew he was the type to hunt monsters. 

       You knew Sam, but who was Dean?

       You creeped around the house, looking for the source of the footsteps, checking every corner with each step you took. You descended down the flight of stairs and tip-toed into the kitchen as quietly as possible.

       You had this tingling feeling that someone was behind you. You snapped your neck to look backward. You expected nothing but instead you were greeted with a fist to your face. You turned your whole body around to defend yourself and threw your own punches in the air. The man behind you just kept dodging your attempts. 

 

       While aiming for his chest, he grabbed you by your arm and twisted it around, causing your body to turn around with it and using his knee, he kicked you at the back making you fall to the floor. He had you pinned down in less than a minute of fighting.

       Your heart pounded as you tried to catch your breathe. 

       “Who the hell are you?” the man asked.

       “I should just ask you the same question. Who the hell are you?” you questioned the man.

       He was about to knock you out with his gun, when Sam walked in.

       “Dean, stop!” Sam yelled. “She was from my class. Y/N, right?” Sam asked.

       “Heya, Sam,” you croaked as you turned your head to him.

       From all the fighting, your voice became sore.

       Sam took you from Dean, helped you get back on your feet and he put your arms around him so you could stand up properly.

       “I’m so sorry for that, this is my brother, Dean,” he said looking at the man who tried to hurt you.

       You looked at Dean, dead in the eye, expecting him to apologize yet he didn’t. He didn’t even put his gun down, he just pointed it straight at you.

       “Please, point your gun at me if it helps you relax,” you began with a witty tone, “You think I haven’t tried that yet? I’ve been trying to kill myself all week because of this thing that I’ve become.”

 

       “How would I know that you’re not purposely causing these earthquakes?” Dean questioned.

       “It’s not me. I was once a hunter. I know what’s causing it,” you replied.

       “If it’s not you then what’s causing it?” Sam asked.

       You looked at Sam and said, “It’s a namazu.”

       “What the hell is a namazu?” Dean inquired.

       “It’s from Japanese mythology and it’s a giant catfish that causes earthquakes.”

       “How do you know this?” Sam asked.

       “I have visions of it,” you said reluctantly, not sure whether that was the right thing to do or not.

       “Huh, visions,” Dean said in a doubtful tone.

       You didn’t want them to think you were lying, so you told them the whole story of how you were turned into something else and how you just want everything to end and that was when Dean lowered his gun, maybe out of pity.

       “Hey, I know what, we help you find a cure, if you help us catch this namazu,” Sam proposed.

       “Yeah, I’m on board with that,” Dean added.

       You looked at both of them and paused for a moment, 

       “Only if Dean apologizes,” you said with a smirk on your face.

       Sam looked at Dean with enlarged eyes, trying to telepathically say ‘You better say sorry, we could really use her help, and she could use our’s.’

       Dean nodded and said, “Sorry. There, I said it. Will you help us now?”

       He didn’t mean it but you thought to yourself ‘It’ll do.’ You nodded your head in response and agreed to the deal. You shook hands with the Winchesters and decided it’s best to research at the boy’s motel.

* * *

       “Hey check this out,” Dean said, holding out a dusty book about creatures associated with death. “ immortalis mortis propheta , translates to immortal death prophet,” He said, while pointing out a picture of a woman on flames being touched by the hand of a pagan goddess. “you can basically have visions associated with death when you’re asleep.”

       “Is there any way to not be a prophet of death?” you asked, with a tone full of hope.

       Sam looked at you, frowned and shook his head, “Unfortunately, there’s none. You’re immortal now and there’s no way of fixing it.” 

       Once you heard this, your confidence and hope just disappeared and tears started to form around the rim of your eyes. The thought of having to carry this sort of burden forever, it was disheartening.

       No matter what you did, all you could think of was death, death that comes to all, but not you. You would live forever, seeing all your loved ones die one by one. You couldn’t even predict your own death.

       After parting from Sam’s hug, you fled to the balcony outside to let all your emotions out.

 

       The balcony outside the hotel was cold. The railings were rusty and the view from it was like any other, some pots, some flowers, withering grass, litter scattered all over.

 

       Dean followed you outside to check up on you.

       “Hey,” he greeted, putting his muscley hand on your right shoulder.

       You wiped your tears to look presentable and faced towards him.

       “What do you want?” you said, in a slightly annoyed voice while removing his hand off of your shoulder.

       “I just wanna help,” Dean said.

       “You just wanna help?” you asked full of doubt, “You think I’m a freak! Just a few hours ago, you tried to kill me!” you yelled, now with tears streaming down your face.

       “I said was sorry,” he said firmly.

       He seemed sincere this time.

       “I used to see beauty in everything,” you began to say, “but now, now all I see is darkness and death.”

       “Hey, don’t start thinking negative now. I think that what you have is a gift,” Dean said, trying to cheer you up.

 

       “How could you say that? Have you ever felt this much darkness before? Have you ever been immortal?” you cried, thinking he couldn’t relate, but he did.

       “I have felt that much darkness, but different from yours. You see death, well I caused it. And yes, I was immortal once, a demon actually. I couldn’t die no matter how much I wanted to. But don’t you see? It’s not a curse. I wouldn’t be with Sam right now if it weren’t for that.” he admitted, his eyes gathering tears that he did not let slip. “This is a chance you are given to be with your loved ones for as long as you can.”

       Dean had just confessed to you something he never told anyone. You didn’t expect him to have gone through so much pain, but now, you know, and now, you understand him and he understands you.

       “Listen, You don’t know me that well, and neither do I, but I think you’re an amazing person. I can tell you don’t give up that easy, and you most certainly shouldn’t give up now, especially if it’s your life that we’re talking about.”

       He leaned in closer spreading his arms to give you something you needed, a hug, and a new friend.

       You let your tears fall while you rested your head on his shoulder. You knew that this man is someone you could count on and someone you could trust. 

       You pulled away from his grip and looked him in the eyes. He was there for you and it’s about time you were there for him.

       “Let’s go fishing,” you suggested.

       “Sure thing.”

* * *

       You came back one day later with the dead scaley corpse of the namazu in the back of the Winchester’s impala. You caught and killed it with the kaname-ishi rock blessed by the powers of the god, Kashima.

 

       You walked in the motel’s dirty red kitchen to grab a pack of victory beer. As the Winchester brothers entered, you opened two bottles and gave one cold bottle to each of them.

 

       “Cheers,” you said with grief in the tone of your voice.

 

       After toasting with Sam and Dean, you quietly exited to the Balcony and once again, Dean had followed you.

 

       “Hey, something still bothering you?” he asked.

 

       You turned your head to look at Dean and you smiled at him wistfully. The kind of smile that looks real but sadness was written all over it.

 

       “Nothing, is bothering me, I’m okay.”

 

       “You sure? You know, if you wanna be cured that badly, we can help you find the cure, but in the meantime, you can help me and Sam when we’re hunting. We could use a talent like yours,” Dean sais.

 

       Is this what I think this is? Is Dean inviting me to hunt with them while we look for the cure?

 

       “I don’t think I want to,” you said, looking at the crappy garden the motel had, questioning even yourself on what you truly wanted.

 

       “You don’t think you want to what? Come with us or look for the cure?” Dean asked, confused.

 

       “I don’t want to find a cure,” you said, this time, you were sure.

 

       “What?” Dean asked, “I thought this is what you wanted?”

 

       “I thought I wanted to find a cure too, seeing Sam after how many years, meeting you, saving people’s lives, I found hope.” You look at Dean in the eyes, “Dean, I want to stay and protect my hometown.”

 

       “Okay, if that’s what you really want,” Dean said, slightly disappointed,“just promise me you’ll stay safe, alright?” he said pulling you into an unexpected hug, “if you ever change your mind, just give Sammy a call.”

 

       You pulled away and almost felt sorry that you declined. 

 

       “Sure thing.”

 

       “Well, I guess ‘til next time. Goodbye Y/N.” Dean headed back into the motel room to tell Sam that you declined his offer.

 

       You heard them pack their bags and climb into the impala. Dean started the engine and that’s when you remembered you wanted to tell Dean one last important thing before he left. 

 

       “Dean!” you shouted, running down to the motel’s parking lot just before they left.

 

       You tapped at the driver’s window where Dean was behind. He rolled the windows down with a hopeful look.

 

       “Changed your mind?” he asked.

 

       “No,” you answered.

 

       The sparkle in Dean’s eyes faded when you said no, “What’s it then?”

 

       You paused for a moment and smiled. Having a friend like Dean changed your life and you were grateful for that.

 

       “I just wanted to say thank you,” you began, “for everything.”

 

       “No problem,” Dean said.

 

       Just before he rolled the windows back up, you gave him a peck on the cheek which made him slightly blush.

 

       “Goodbye Dean Winchester.”

 

       “Goodbye Y/F/L/N.”

 

       And just like that, the impala drove off down the highway.

 


End file.
